Chapter 15
“How’s your head for numbers?” the witch hunter asked as they followed the trail of trampled leaves and disturbed soil through the forest.
As if his sins weren’t terrible enough, he was also the worst kind of morning person—alert the moment the sun touched the horizon, driven to throw himself into solving all the problems of the day, and incapable of understanding that some people preferred silence first thing in the morning.
It didn’t help that the problem he seemed determined to solve that morning was her.
Apparently he’d decided she needed to be saved from her wretched life and had spent his time on watch thinking about her flaws and how he was going to fix them.
That morning he’d announced he was going to take her under his wing.
When she told him she didn’t want to be under him in any way, he’d only laughed and set to cataloguing her skills and abilities, turning her this way and that, trying to figure out how she might fit into the civilized world he was familiar with.
“I can keep a tally,” she said sullenly. “Like right now I’m up to a dozen other ways I’d rather be spending my morning than having this conversation with you.”
“Only a dozen?”
“I’ve only just gotten started on it.”
“Perhaps you could find a place as a clerk in a merchant house,” he suggested, guiding Kenzi around a rock in their path with only a tensing of his thighs.
Sunlight dripped through the shifting canopy, casting him in a golden haze.
Usually he kept his hair combed back, but he’d washed it in the stream that morning and it curled untamed around his face.
There was the scruffy beginning of a beard on his jaw and a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her.
It should have made him look disreputable, like a rogue or a thief, but it only made him more attractive.
Two hundred cord wasn’t enough for this.
“I didn’t say I liked tallying numbers, only that I could do it. I’ve never been able to sit still for long, especially not inside.”
He considered that for a moment, and then said, “You’re smart and resourceful. You could start your own business. That wouldn’t necessarily keep you inside once you were able to hire someone to keep your books.”
She narrowed her eyes, searching for the trap in his words, but there didn’t seem to be one.
“I could start a business selling charms,” she said. “I’d like using the crown’s money for that.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t take the bait. “You could be a soldier, like your father.”
“No.”
He nodded as if he’d expected the rejection. “A sailor, then. If you’re brave enough to step into the Black Woods, you’re brave enough to take to the sea. Lasrians have entirely female crews if you’re not interested in the royal fleet.”
“I’ve never even seen the ocean.”
Not a city larger than Sulen or the ocean or…anything except for Jarn and Toam and the wild woods and the cursed mountains looming over it all. How was she to know what she might like out there?
“You could always marry.”
She groaned. “For fuck’s sake.”
“You’ll have to work on the cursing. But once we clean you up and dress you in fashionable clothes, I think it could work. I’ll introduce you to some suitable men.”
“I don’t even want to think about the kind of men you’d think were suitable.”
He turned his head, regarding her with mild amusement. “You’d be a fool not to consider it. If you marry a wealthy man willing to accept your mother into his household, you’ll never have to worry about money again.”
“I can’t do that.”
She wouldn’t marry for money. Maybe it was foolish, but she still harbored the smallest spark of hope that one day she might meet a man who would love her as she was, not for her face or the children she could bear, but because he actually liked her as a whole person.
“It would be the easiest thing in the world to find you a willing partner,” the witch hunter went on, misunderstanding her objection. “You must know what you look like.”
What did he mean by that?
His gaze lingered on her for a moment before abruptly turning away. He rested his hands lightly on the saddle’s pommel. “Even with your tongue, I won’t have trouble finding you a husband. Some men might even prefer it.”
“What kind of men?”
“Men who don’t like to be bored. The ones who don’t want a meek and silent wife.”
“All men want a meek and silent wife.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “What sorry excuses for men you must know.”
Men were men everywhere, she imagined. Even in the capital.
“I’m not letting you pick out a husband for me.”
Good Lord, who would that even be? Some pious fuck who would look past her apparently many, many shortcomings and see only her youth and her face, that’s who.
No, thanks.
“Governess?”
She just stared at him. She didn’t think he was mocking her. He wasn’t that kind of asshole.
She didn’t think he was that kind of asshole.
“I would be an awful governess. Remember the cursing?”
“I believe you could refrain from cursing if you put some effort into it.”
“And you think I should be a governess?” she asked him incredulously.
“Can you imagine me sitting around and listening to people talk all day? The whole time being laced up so tightly I can’t breathe.
Or trying to convince some poor child to read another history book instead of going outside to play. That’s what you think I’d be good at?”
“There are worse ways to spend a summer’s day than with a book. Don’t you like to read?”
She’d seen a book in his bags when she’d gone through them in Toam. History, she thought. She’d been surprised he let it take up the space, but then she supposed even witch hunters needed to relax sometimes between slaughtering women.
“We don’t have a lot of books in Toam.”
Something moved across his face—pity, she thought. “If there are gaps in your education that need to be addressed, I’ll hire an instructor for you.”
Would he? Just like that? How much money did he actually have?
“I can read,” she told him. “My mother made sure of that. It doesn’t matter though. I’m not going to be a governess or clerk or sailor.”
The witch hunter—Casrian, he kept insisting she call him—studied the patch of mountain juniper clinging to the hillside on their left.
She knew there was nothing hiding in there.
The trees would have warned her if there was, but she let him look.
No good way to tell him how she knew they were safe.
And his silence was a welcome reprieve from his newfound hobby of laying out all of her problems so they could study them together.
It didn’t last nearly long enough. Once they were through the hollow and climbing the next rise, he turned to her again.
Before he could speak, she said, “You can stop now. I’m not going to fit in anywhere in the capital.” Or anywhere in his world, apparently.
Maybe she could take her mother to the Academy and join a trading caravan.
If her mother was safe, she could go anywhere.
She fixed her gaze on a squirrel scurrying through the canopy ahead of them, jumping from the heavy branch of a bur oak to a golden-leafed birch.
She could feel Casrian watching her, but she didn’t want to look at him.
“The world is much larger than you know,” he said quietly. “You’ll find your place in it. When this is done, I’ll take you and your mother to the capital. Once you’re dressed properly—”
“I’m already dressed properly.”
“I’ll buy the clothes,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about the money.”
“My breeches are fine.”
“What’s your objection to dresses?”
She gave him a look. “I used to wear dresses until men started shoving their hands up my skirts. Then I had to switch to breeches.”
His smile disappeared like someone snatched it off his face. Good. Maybe he’d take the hint and stop asking stupid questions.
She nudged Copper past him, guiding him up the next hill and through a stretch of tall pine.
The horses’ hooves were nearly silent on the bed of needles.
She paused at the top to get her bearings, noting the position of the river below.
A break in the scrubby brush on the riverbank, worn clear by whatever animals still lived in the woods.
They should stop there to water the horses.
Casrian came up beside her. “Who?”
She glanced his way. “Who what?”
His hands gripped the reins so tightly that Kenzi shied away for a moment before he drew her back under his control. “Who put their hands on you?”
Edom whenever he got drunk. A trader who passed through on his way to Sulen. Lucen Rey not even a week before his wedding. None of them had gotten far. One of the first things Toby had taught her was how to throw a punch.
She frowned at him. “It doesn’t matter. Why would you even want to know?”
She didn’t wait for his answer. Shaking her head, she urged Copper forward. Casrian followed, blessedly silent as they picked their way down the hill to the river. She let out a very unladylike grunt when she swung her leg over Copper’s back to dismount.
“Here. Let me.” The witch hunter came up behind her when she started to fall. His hands closed around her waist, steadying her as he eased her to the ground.
Her legs trembled like a newborn fawn. She was tempted to lean back against his strength, but she didn’t let herself do it.
“All right?” His breath touched her cheek, carrying the scent of mint from their morning tea.
She closed her eyes, nodded. But he didn’t let her go.
“Rowan…” His fingers tightened, the tips pressing into her skin through her thin shirt. “I know you were raised in a place where the standards of decent society are not upheld. You might not understand how wrong that behavior is. Those men… That should not have happened to you.”
No. It should not have.
“It hasn’t happened since I started wearing breeches,” she told him. “I think it’s because now they can see the knife.”
Casrian made a sound in his throat like he’d swallowed a bug.
“Are you all right?”
She pulled away to better see his face. He released her, reluctantly. He was angry. She didn’t understand it. She was fine. Why would he care anyway?
“Do you even know how to use that knife?”
“I keep the blade sharp. I could use it if I had to.” Probably. She’d never actually had to hurt anyone. Toam was more dangerous for outsiders than it was for its own. No one had ever pulled a knife on her there. “Just having it on me is warning enough.”
He shook his head slowly. “It’s not enough. If someone calls your bluff—which someone eventually will—you need to know how to use it. You can’t just draw your blade and swing it around hoping for the best. You’ll get yourself killed that way.”
“I’ve survived this long.”
“It’s a wonder.” He was silent for a moment. “Any chance I can convince you not to carry a knife around with you when we get to the capital?”
If she went to the capital, which seemed increasingly unlikely. “No.”
His mouth pressed into a tight line, and he nodded. “I’ll show you the basics then.”
“You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to do anything more than what we’ve already agreed on. Why do you even want to?”
“You saved my life. You came out here with me to find my men. I owe you.”
She studied his face, which had gone starkly serious.
“For Jarn, too.”
Was that what this was about? He was feeling guilty?
She shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything more than the money we agreed on.”
“I think I do.”
“Think what you want. I won’t be tied to you that way. My mother has already forgiven you for Jarn. It doesn’t matter what I think about it. Just pay me the money you owe me when this is through and we’ll be square.”
“That won’t be enough,” he said.
There was no point in arguing with him about it now. They were stuck together for at least the next week. She’d accept her payment for this job, what was laid out in the bargain they’d made, and then she’d be done with him.
“Rowan,” he said. “I—”
His attention shifted suddenly to a point past her shoulder. His body stiffened. She turned to follow his gaze. He was staring at the river, at the stand of black hawthorn and scrubby brush that covered the embankment.
There was something moving in the brush. The branches at the center thrashed like something big was tearing its way through.
Fear punched her in the gut. The witch hunter pulled her behind him. He was fast. His sword was in his hand and he was standing between her and the threat before she’d managed to steady herself.
She pulled her knife from the sheath in her boot and moved to his side, peering into the woods. She couldn’t see much. It was all a tangle of brush and trees. Some movement as the top branches swayed against the wind like something big was moving through.
“What is it?”
“An animal of some kind,” the captain said softly, his voice calm. “We wouldn’t hear a familiar coming.”
A low growl raised all the hair on her body. It didn’t sound like any animal she’d ever encountered. It sounded like a monster.
“Get your bow.”